All Children Grow Up
by Livily
Summary: No longer were they innocent children who danced with Indians, fought with pirates, and soared through the skies with Peter Pan. The Darling children had left those days long ago."


**All Children Grow Up**

_AN: I don't own Peter Pan, although perhaps it belongs to John Darling? (Of course the wonderful story belongs to J.M. Barrie.) _

She was a grown up, in fact, they all were. No longer were they innocent children who danced with Indians, fought with pirates, and soared through the skies with Peter Pan. The Darling children had left those days long ago. Now, they were all proper adults with aspiring goals, yet John knew that none of them would ever completely abandon Neverland and its cocky king.

As he bent his head against the torrents of rain hitting his umbrella, he marveled at the world around him as he had so many times before. London was a gritty, bleak place when compared to Neverland with its dazzling colors. Although the adventures with Peter and the Lost Boys were lovely memories, they often became lost beneath the grime of London, seeming nothing more than a wonderful dream.

"Which is why I'm immortalizing them forever," John muttered to himself as he fumbled with his old key. Stepping into his old home, he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him, and quickly moved upstairs to the old nursery he used to share with Michael and Wendy. It seemed like yesterday they had been playing mermaids and pirates, evasively avoiding Nana and the nasty tonic. But obviously those things had happened years ago, not days. Michael, now halfway through secondary school, had aspiring plans to graduate early and study a year abroad, while he, John, was currently enrolled at Oxford University and planning to major in law. And Wendy, their twenty-two year old sister Wendy, was to be married. Tomorrow.

The more he thought on it, the more amazed he became; especially here in the nursery where all of the adventures began. It was difficult to imagine Wendy loving someone besides... well, Peter Pan. He knew that after their departure from Neverland, she had been heartbroken for years, and then one day she was swept off of her feet by some bloke from Manchester. Wendy was getting married.

John rifled through his belongings, searching for a leather-bound book. "Ah-ha!" He exclaimed successfully, moving over to his old bed. He sprawled across it, finding his adult limbs much too large for the child-sized bed. The house was abnormally silent; something that never occurred when the Darlings were children, but then they weren't children anymore. He knew that Michael still had at least an hour of school, while Wendy and Mother were undoubtedly in the midst of wedding planning, and of course his father was working. He was always working.

John wrote in the book for several quiet moments before finishing his final sentence with a flourish. A grin spread across his countenance as he thumbed through the text-filled pages. He had even drawn several pictures from memory, though it was Wendy who was the artist. John flipped to his favorite: a sketch of a cocky, leaf-clad boy standing confidently, hands on his hips. After scrutinizing the picture, he re-read the last several pages, knowing they were merely speculation, but also knowing that they would be a reminder to Wendy. As her brother, he wished her the best, but he also wanted to ensure that she didn't forget Peter Pan just because she was no longer in love with the boy.

John was aware that he had been the first to leave the warm clutches of the Darling home, but Wendy's departure appeared more final and more... grown up. He was determined that this new life would not expunge his sister of her desire for the fantastic and magical.

After scrawling a brief note in the back, he carefully printed the title of the book, _Peter and Wendy, _and beneath it his own penname: J.M. Barrie. The name was merely a compilation of his first initial, Michael's first initial, and the street his dorm was on. It had no large significance to him, but he liked the sound of it, preferring to keep practical "John Darling" contained within the story. After all, Wendy was the true storyteller.

He was startled out of his contemplations as the front door slammed shut. "Hullo?" He heard Michael call as he entered the house. Quickly stowing the book, John rushed downstairs to greet his younger brother.

"Michael!" He exclaimed, clapping the boy on the back.

Michael grinned at him, golden hair glinting in the light. He haphazardly hung his coat in a closet and dumped his books on the ground. "How've you been, John?" He asked curiously, leading his brother to the kitchen to brew a pot of tea.

John shrugged. "Even at Oxford school is rather dull."

Michael flashed him a knowing smile as he began to boil the water. "Not to say I told you so, but I _did_ tell you."

John waved him off, "Yes, well, I'd rather not talk about school right now. I'm on a vacation of sorts, but just because I'm on 'vacation' doesn't mean I'm a guest. You don't have to serve me, Michael."

The younger boy wrinkled his freckled nose and tossed John a spoon. "'Spose you're right, John. Have at it." He gestured toward the water, and moved to sit down, smiling cockily at his elder brother.

John rolled his eyes but moved to prepare the tea anyways. Out of the corner of his eye, he surveyed Michael. His younger brother hadn't change much in a year. He was still confident, charming, and rather obnoxious when he wanted to be.

Michael rested his chin on his hand thoughtfully. "Things have just been so odd around here lately, what with you being away, and the wedding and all. Wendy's almost always with Jim... I don't know, he's a nice fellow, he's just not..." Michael trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"He's not Peter." John stated bluntly.

Michael nodded. "After all of those years of pining..."

"You just never imagined her moving on?"

Michael shrugged. "It's not like I wanted her sad all the time, I just always thought she'd hold on the longest... being Peter's mother and all."

The brother's shared a laugh, sipping their tea, both in thought. Tomorrow, Wendy was to be wed to Jim Andrews of Manchester.

The next several hours passed quickly as the boys chatted, drank tea, and raided the pantry of pastries. Three cups of tea and several pastries later, the door opened for a second time and the rest of the Darlings entered the house.

"Michael?" Mrs. Darling called into the kitchen. Michael tromped through the door, John following anxiously. He hadn't seen his family in a full year.

"John!" Wendy cried excitedly, rushing forward to embrace her younger brother. John grinned, taking in her fitted dress and milky complexion. He cocked his head to the side, fighting the urge to laugh as he observed his sister's disheveled curls. Some things would never change.

"Come, let's have a cup of tea in the parlor," Mrs. Darling said, making to lead the family toward the parlor. Mr. Darling frowned as the boys both broke into giggles, feeling as if they couldn't possibly have another cup of tea.

"I….I think we're all right, Mum," laughed Michael, ignoring the pointed look coming from his father. "Actually, I think John, Wendy, and I will go upstairs."

John shot his parents an apologetic look, promising himself that he'd spend time with them later on. There was no time to protest, though, as Michael, currently a member of his school's football team and rather strong, hauled both he and Wendy up the stairs. He laughed, latching his arm through Wendy's as they instinctively tumbled into the nursery.

Wendy laughed gaily, tucking a curl behind her ear as she settled daintily on her former bed. She gazed ruefully around the room, eyes landing on her brothers, both of whom were watching her expectantly.

"What?" She asked indignantly, tossing a pillow at John's head.

John shrugged, smiling pensively, "It's nothing really," he hesitated, unsure as to what he wanted to say. "It's just like we're kids again, you know? But we're not."

Wendy sighed, fingering the dress of a childhood doll. "Don't I know it," she muttered.

John raised his eyebrows curiously, and Michael turned to look at his oldest sibling. "Wendy?"

She frowned, pursing her lips together. "I just feel like we've all grown up so fast."

John glanced at Michael tentatively, his eyes straying to the large nursery window and the already darkening sky. "Isn't this what you wanted? You weren't forced to grow up."

Wendy nodded painfully, eyes gazing out the window and into the distance. "I… I love Jim, really, but sometimes I wish things didn't have to change."

Michael moved to sit next Wendy, squeezing her shoulder sympathetically. "All things change, Wendy. Just look at John, he's left home already."

She looked up at John, who despite being seated was a head taller than her. An expression of respect shone on her face. "Weren't you scared to leave home?"

He scoffed, "'Course I was, but now that I've done it, I'm glad of it."

She paused. "Yes, but…. Aren't you afraid that you're too grown up to get back to…?"

"To Neverland?" John asked forwardly, finally vocalizing what they had been skirting all night. Wendy nodded.

"Well, we _are_ too old, Wendy, and even if we did, you'd be so much older than Peter."

She sighed somewhat wistfully, "Yes, I know. It's just that when I look up into the sky and see it—second star to the right and straight on 'til morning—I can't help but wonder if we're all just mad, and while part of me hopes that we are mad and it was all just a dream, the rest of me yearns for Neverland….. and Peter."

Michael squawked indignantly. "_I'm _not mad."

Wendy smiled endearingly at her youngest brother. "It is a rather silly thought, though…. Wouldn't it just be easier?"

They were silent for a moment, and John, sensing a window of opportunity, quickly fumbled around for the book. "Here," he said gruffly, thrusting it at her. "I guess you could say it's a wedding present. I know it's not nearly enough, but it's _something_ at least. I just don't have enough money to buy a real present. I had to improvise an ending, because obviously you don't have any children yet, though I hope you like it. I, myself, am not too fond of it, and by all means, you needn't call your daughter Jane. The thing is, there's this girl in my Literature class and she reminds me of you, so I thought—"

"John! Hush!" Wendy exclaimed, eyes gleaming as she eagerly thumbed through the pages. "Why, this is lovely, John. I absolutely adore it." She rose to kiss her brother on the cheek. "Thank-you very much, little brother," she said firmly, squashing his other protests.

He smiled at her shyly, and then stood to pull her into a rough hug, once again towering over her. "I couldn't let you forget who's taller."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "I do _abhor _tall men."

John cocked an eyebrow, "Then do tell me, how is it that you find yourself infatuated with Jim, who, last time I checked has to stoop to enter nearly every doorway."

This time, it was Wendy's turn to flush, and she did so prettily. "I suppose he's a special case, John Darling."John quickly thought of Peter, who had been eye level with Wendy, but brushed the thought away, enjoying the easy banter.

At this point, Michael intervened, no longer able to watch from the sidelines. "Perhaps Jim reminds you of us." A cocky grin stretched across his lips. Although he was not as tall as John, even Michael had a few inches on Wendy.

She glared at both of her brothers. "A little conceited, aren't we boys?" She put her hands on her hips, and eyed them reproachfully, attempting the hide the upward quirk of her lips.

"Not conceited, Wendy," began John.

"Just truthful," Michael finished for his brother. Both boys watched Wendy triumphantly, waiting for whatever witty comeback she had in store for them. Instead, she whirled toward a bed and snatched up a pillow. John and Michael exchanged delighted looks as Wendy hurled the pillow toward their heads. Both ducked, and the pillow missed.

"Wendy, Wendy, Wendy." John said, sadly shaking his head. "You just don't have the strength to toss a pillow so high up."

Michael shrugged, grabbing a pillow of his own, "Unfortunately for you, it is so much easier to _drop _something." With that, he threw his own pillow at Wendy, hitting her square in the face.

Within seconds a full-out pillow war began as the children (for this is what they were at the moment) leaped between beds, pummeling each other with pillows. Wendy shrieked, as at one point both of her brother's lunged toward her, sandwiching her between them as the three of them fell to the ground with a thud. Laughing hysterically, they untangled themselves and attempted to sit up as the door swung open.

"Wendy!" Mrs. Darling exclaimed indignantly, taking in her rumbled, disheveled daughter. "What is going on?"

Wendy giggled. "It… we…. Pillow fight…." She gasped, unable to stop laughing.

Michael attempted to help her, cutting in. "Sorry Mum…." He broke off as he succumbed to another peal of laughter.

"I…. can't… breathe…" John gasped, gulping for air as he clutched his sides.

Mrs. Darling stared disapprovingly at her children as they laughed on the ground, almost completely forgetting her presence. "Well, please pull yourselves together and come down for supper. I expect you downstairs in five minutes." She glanced at her children once more and shook her head, exiting the room. "Why I never!"

Slowly, the three Darling children stopped laughing and pulled each other to their feet. Wendy wiped a tear from her eye and took a deep, calming breath. "That wasn't entirely fair." She stated simply, brushing the wrinkles out of her dress and running her fingers through her hair. "Come now, boys, we mustn't keep Mother and Father waiting." John snorted as she entered 'mothering mode' again, and she shot him a pointed look. Glancing at Michael to make sure he was presentable, she picked up the book. "John, I do love it."

John, remembering his previous embarrassment, shot Wendy a sheepish smile. "I'm glad you like it. I just didn't want you to forget Neverland… and Peter."

Wendy smiled at him, "Oh, I couldn't possibly, John, no matter how much I'd like to sometimes." Her voice softened. "It's a part of me." Unconsciously, her fingers moved to her neck, searching for the acorn that no longer hung there. Instead, she felt the cold engagement ring firmly circling her finger. She squared her jaw resolutely, as if coming to a conclusion. "They were wonderful adventures, boys, but I think that we have to move on, though we must never forget them." She looked at her expectant brothers and nodded firmly, as if attempting to convince herself of her own words. John and Michael nodded solemnly as Wendy came to terms with something they had realized years ago.

She gave another crisp nod. "Come along, then. We shouldn't keep Mother and Father waiting any longer." The boys readily agreed, and the three proceeded down the stairs, Wendy in the lead.

The family spent a lovely evening together before Mrs. Darling insisted that Michael go to bed. He grumbled, insisting that he was no longer a child, until he realized his elder siblings fully intended to follow. After preparing for bed, the three decided they would spend one last night in the nursery. Although Nana was sadly absent, they could not help but believe they were children again. Companionable silence stretched across the room as the Darling siblings lay awake in bed. Although no one spoke, years of sharing a room had given them the ability to recognize whether or not the others were asleep. Tonight, all three were assuredly awake. John broke the silence, his voice spreading across the room. "Perhaps a story, Wendy?"

Michael clapped his hands, obviously grinning in the dark. "Yes, Wendy! Tell us a story!"

From her place in bed, Wendy laughed delightedly. "A story? Perhaps John should read us some of his book."

John waved his hands in the air. "Pish, posh, Wendy, you're the storyteller. I just wrote down your words."

She laughed again. "I suppose we haven't had a story in some time…"

"Hurrah!" cried Michael happily.

"Huzzah!" John echoed, feeling twelve again.

"Will there be pirates, Wendy?" Michael asked, the excitement of a story sweeping over him.

"And Indians. There must be Indians, right Wendy?" John ruefully remembered his own exciting encounter with the Red Skins.

Wendy sighed, pretending to be in thought. "Well, I'm sorry to say that I have no new stories… but perhaps an old, familiar one?" The boys cheered, settling back into their beds. All thoughts of the impending day were quickly banished from their minds as Wendy began. Her voice took on the same tone it had so many years before, and John could almost see her eyes sparkling in the darkness. "Now, as you well know, all children except one grow up…"

John grinned contentedly and gazed out the window. In the distance, a bright star gleamed in the night sky, and a breeze wafted through the ever-open window. Wendy's voice drifted through the air, blending with another sound. John strained his ears, and then, he could have sworn he heard the soft melody of panpipes floating on the wind.

_AN: So, how was it? It was so difficult characterizing a grown up John, Michael, and Wendy. Though Wendy's thoughts were undeniably the most difficult. Please review and let me know your thoughts, comments, or any ways I can improve. Thanks for reading. _

_Lily_


End file.
